


what happens in tivoli

by ocean_clown



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/F, Smut, but kenny is alive because i miss this boy, caused by board games and being sore losers, post 3x08, villaneve being the chaotic duo that they are
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:48:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25812355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ocean_clown/pseuds/ocean_clown
Summary: Carolyn asks Eve and Villanelle to go undercover at an auction in Italy to get information about the Twelve. But it's all a bad idea, from having the two of them locked in an hotel room in Rome for two days to sending them to said auction.
Relationships: Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova
Comments: 26
Kudos: 173





	1. unfortunate, isn't it?

**Author's Note:**

> Everything's the same except that Kenny didn't die and after the Bridge™, Villanelle and Eve stay at a secret Konstantin's safehouse in London. Hope you enjoy, let me know what you think!

The faint buzzing sound stops when Eve fumbles around the nightstand to find her phone.  She checks the bright screen with one eye opened and blinks until she can read the _1 missed call_ notification, followed by _1 voicemail_. Eve lets the phone fall on her stomach and pinches the bridge of her nose when she sees the caller's name. She sighs, perhaps a little too  loud, and feels the mattress sink next to her. Next thing she knows, there's no duvet covering her anymore. Blond hair disappears under the covers as Eve turns her head to the left. Villanelle  is wrapped  up in blankets, the top of her head  barely  visible. Eve smiles at the sight but she can't hold back a shiver.  Konstantin's apartment is cozy and warm but it's still one in the morning and winter is  just  around the corner. Now that she's very much awake, might as well listen to this goddamn voicemail, she thinks. She presses the play button with a "fuck it", sticking the phone to her ear, already rolling her eyes.

"Eve, this is Carolyn. Meet me at the bar tomorrow at nine. We need to talk."

That's all it says.  Eve puts the phone away from her ear,  firmly  believing that the recording stopped, that her phone froze. It didn't.

She had to call her in the middle of the night  just  for _that_?

Their last meeting at Paul's house - a dead man's house - couldn't be the last; Eve knew that. She still thought her next encounter with Carolyn would come later.

"The bar," Eve mutters to herself with a mocking and pronounced English accent. "The _one_ bar in London."

Deep down, she knows which bar Carolyn is talking about.  However, it's the middle of the night, she's tired, holed up in Konstantin's apartment and, if anything, she deserves to insult Carolyn for a minute.  She keeps mumbling and groaning through gritted teeth as she sets her phone back on the nightstand. The older woman turns around, on her side, and tucks her hand under her pillow. She’s met with tousled blond hair and a sleepy smile.

"Hey."

"Hey, go back to sleep. I didn’t want to wake you up."

Villanelle scratches her temple and rubs her eyes, a confused look on her face.

"Why are you awake?"

Her Russian accent is thicker than usual, deeper, and Eve knows it won’t take her long to fall back asleep. So she decides to keep Carolyn’s message to herself for now. She taps her arm with one finger, bringing Villanelle’s attention to the goosebumps on her skin.

"I wonder  _why_ , but I'm cold." She wants her tone to be accusatory. It's nothing but soft and  mildly  amused.

The blonde looks down her own body  tightly  rolled up in the sheets, and then at Eve's side of the bed, empty. When she locks eyes with Eve again, there's a grin on her lips.

"Tragic," she says.

Villanelle secures her grip on the pile of blankets covering her and rolls further away from Eve.

"Don’t come crying when I'll die from hypothermia." She hears Villanelle chuckle. "Asshole."

It doesn't take long for Villanelle to give in and seek Eve's warmth, rolling back to where she  previously  was. She tugs at the sheets and the blankets stuck under her side to cover Eve's body. She leaves her arm, draped over the other woman's stomach, in place. They both relax in the touch, sinking into the comfortable and calming feeling. Carolyn is  quickly  forgotten as they settle in the bed the same way they have for the past three nights.

Villanelle had offered to take the couch the first night they had spent there. Eve had refused. They were adults. They could share a bed. It didn't mean anything. Until it did, when Villanelle had nuzzled her neck and Eve had  mindlessly  played with her blond locks. Little did she know it was about to become their routine.

So Eve wraps a strand of hair around her ring finger. And she can't tell if Villanelle's sigh is real; Morpheus takes over.

* * *

For a second Eve wonders what hurts more: the sore pain she still feels in her shoulder before she stretches it in the morning or the ringing in her ears from the phone's alarm. It's too early for anything and _way too early_ to meet Carolyn Martens out of all people.

Eve  blindly  taps on her phone. Either hits stop or snooze. At least the sound disappears.  But not before Villanelle can groan and slip under the covers,  weirdly  wrapping her arms around her head to cover her ears.

Her voice muffled by the blankets, she utters one single word, "Why?".

Eve heads towards the bathroom, dragging her feet on the carpeting.

"I’m meeting Carolyn," she says loud enough for Villanelle to hear from the other room. "It won’t take long."

When the older woman comes out of the bathroom, Villanelle props herself up on her elbows. She swings her legs above the mattress to sit on the edge of the bed.

"Is that why you were up last night?" Eve nods and puts her shoes on. "I'm coming with you."

"No," she shoots back on the spot. "You stay put. I'll be back soon."

Villanelle knows this tone. There's no point in trying to change Eve's mind.

"Fine. But Eve-"

Eve cuts her off, "I can take care of myself. And-"

"I know."  Eve is already about to counter whatever Villanelle has to add, when she hears, "Can you get croissants on your way back ?"

"Sorry?"

Villanelle offers her something between a pout and a smile, eyebrows raised and eyes wide open. Eve understands it's her best attempt at a puppy face. And god, is it bad.

"Okay, sure."

"If there's _one_ thing I miss from Paris..."  Villanelle trails, her fingertips  automatically  reaching for the line of rougher skin near her hip.

Eve catches her movement.  She feels a twist in her stomach,  painfully  reminding her of the shared history that they haven't even begun to talk about. Her own scar itches. She rolls her shoulders and shakes the feeling off.

"Promise me you’ll stay here," she demands, grabbing her bag on the couch.

"Where would I go?"

"A bakery,  clearly."

Villanelle throws her head back and moans at the sole idea of a bakery. It makes Eve laugh.

"Promise."

Eve nods to herself - "ok, good" - and makes sure she has her phone and the spare set of keys.

"See you soon," Villanelle says with a smile before Eve disappears the hallway.

This particular choice of words triggers the imagery of Italian alleys, broken promises, and, well, evil men chopped into tiny bits. Eve dares to hope it won't end up the same way.

"See you soon," she replies, much softer than the other time, and leaves.

* * *

She knows exactly where to go, which bus to take and where to stop. When she finally gets there, the bar isn’t as empty as the first time - which feels like decades ago - but it hasn’t changed. Carolyn is sitting at the same table, a drink already in front of her. She looks up, acknowledges Eve's presence and motions towards the unoccupied chair. Eve lets her bag slide off her shoulder and sits down.

"This isn't exactly low profile."

"It's a café, Eve."

"I meant the drinking gin and tonics at nine in the morning part."

Carolyn hums and gives Eve a funny look when she doesn't take off her coat. It's her way of showing she's not planning on staying here for long, that she has the upper hand and she decides what to do.

"Your usual... partner in crime isn't around, is she?"

"No."

"Why is that?"

Eve leans back in her seat.

"Lack of trust?" She says with a shrug.

"So you thought it was dangerous but you decided to come here instead of sending a trained assassin?"

"We both know she isn't in the Twelve's good books right now."

"And?"

Carolyn wants her to say it. So she does.

"And I'm not sure who you work for anymore. I'm not risking it."

Carolyn sips her drink in silence.

"Fair enough."

They stay quiet for a minute. Eve examines the room and starts chewing on the inside of her cheeks.  She's pretty sure she's memorized every piece of furniture in the room when Carolyn orders them drinks.

"Why are we here, Carolyn?" Eve finally asks, losing patience.

Her coat feels heavier, she's too hot. Fuck trying to look like she's in charge. She looks like a fucking idiot, that's for sure.

Carolyn gives her a few seconds to get rid of the coat without a hint of a smile on her lips.

"There's an auction happening in Tivoli next week. Paul's close contact who is  undoubtedly  in league with the Twelve will be there," she explains. "We don't know if they want to get something or if it's only a fancy cover for a meeting."

Eve raises her eyebrows, expecting the woman to continue, and takes a sip.

"Unfortunately, I know more people from this organization than I'd like," Carolyn says with a sigh. Eve huffs. _No shit_. "They would recognize me and I need eyes in that room."

It takes Eve a second to process all the information and understand what she has to do with it all.  She almost laughs because,  really, she's heard ridiculous things but this one takes the cake.

"Wait. You want me to infiltrate a shady auction to what? Spy on him? I don't do that."

" _She_ does."

Eve's glass hits the wooden table more  abruptly  than she thought it would. She shakes her head, a deep sour laugh escaping her throat.

"You're not dragging Villanelle into this."

"She's been into this for years now, Eve. Don't be ridiculous. She's not even out of it."

Eve wants to point out that it's the exact reason why she shouldn't even mention Villanelle for this job. Might as well send a sheep in a room full of wolves. But Carolyn knows it already.

"Is it what this meeting is all about? Getting her to work for you after you told her she was useless three days ago?"

"Getting protective and sentimental?"

Eve doesn't pick up on it. She runs a hand across her face and sighs.

"Do you even know what you want?"

Carolyn answers but avoids the question.

"I want to know who he meets, what they say and what they're planning. The two of you can do that  just  fine."

"Why don't you assemble one of these little teams you have a knack for?"

"You know why. Paul infiltrated MI6. God knows how many of them we have in our ranks at the moment. I don't trust anyone enough for this."

"But you trust Villanelle?" Eve asks, suspicious.

"I trust that she doesn't trust anyone either. And that you trust her. I also believe you have Kenny's best interest at heart."

Eve  is taken  aback at the mention of the young man's name.

"What does it have to do with Kenny?"

"Somebody put a hit on him."

Carolyn's voice doesn't even quiver. She could've been talking about what she had for dinner the night before, it would've been the same tone. Even. Almost cold. Factual.

Eve can't do the same.

" _What_?"

A few people  suddenly  stare at their table. Too loud.

"Unfortunate, isn't it?"

Eve stutters, tries to word a coherent sentence but the woman in front of her doesn't give her the time to. She points a finger at Eve, like a teacher at a disruptive student.

"I meant what I said. There's a very small chance that the Twelve can  be destroyed. But I can't sit there and do nothing while they try to murder my son. Again."

Carolyn waits for an answer, for something, but Eve stays quiet. She claps her hands before reaching inside her jacket. She slides an envelope on the table and waits for Eve to open it.

It's a photo of Paul and another man. About the same height, dark hair, in his late forties. She turns the photograph to see "Daniel Lewis" scribbled in the right corner.

"It's him?"

"Yes." Eve puts the photo back in the envelope. "I'll tell you what. Ask Villanelle if she's up for it and give me an answer before the end of the week."

"It's Sunday."

"Then I guess you don't have much time."

Unbelievable. Eve shakes her head and as she gets up and puts her coat on, she says, "Let me be clear. If I do this, it's only for Kenny."

"Of course."

She  unceremoniously  grabs the envelope on the table and shoves it in her bag. When it's clear Eve is about to leave, Carolyn stops her.

"You haven't paid for your drink," she points out.

"I can't afford this place. Deduct it from my imaginary paycheck"

"Is that a yes, then?"

"Goodbye, Carolyn."

* * *

Eve knew it was naïve to think it could end  just  like that, with a snap of her fingers, but they  were supposed  to  be done  with it. Done chasing the Twelve, done with the accounts, done with MI6. Yet, Carolyn's words play on a loop in her head. _Somebody put a hit on him_. She sees Kenny's face and hears Kenny's jokes. Loses it again at "todger". She can't let anything happen to him. It's Kenny. Walking away isn't an option. She'd never forgive herself.

_Somebody put a hit on him._

For a second, Eve wants to blame him. Konstantin had warned Kenny, after all. But he kept looking into the Twelve. Just like she had said she was over with everything. Before diving right back in. They brought it on themselves.

The more she walks, the more Eve realizes there's something else at the back of her mind, bothering her. Something she can't quite put her finger on.

It's only when she pushes the key in the lock that it hits her.

Fuck.

The croissants.

* * *

Villanelle agrees between two croissants.  The second Eve finishes her explanation, the blonde holds the photograph between greasy fingers, shrugs, and nods.

"Sure," she says, her mouth full.

It's her turn to give Eve an explanation. One, Hélène will send someone - if not herself - after her anytime now. Two, she needs money, no matter the amount because "Eve, I don't have much saved" and by "much" she means "nothing". Three, Kenny is important to Eve.

And although it stays unspoken, Bill's memory is still present in both of their minds. She owes her.

* * *

The next day, late in the afternoon, they make it to the address that Carolyn had texted to Eve. The older woman pushes the last button on the intercom. They wait for long seconds but the front door doesn't open. Villanelle ends up slapping her hands on the intercom and slide them along, pushing all the buttons with a satisfied smile.

"Seriously?"

Eve can't say more. She's cut off by the buzzing sound of the door being unlocked.

"You're welcome," Villanelle smiles, pushing the door open.

Eve walks in the dark hallway. "You're a child."

"You're mad because I outsmarted you. _That's_ childish."

"Outsmarted? We're supposed to be discreet."

"Then don't talk so loud." She shows the staircase with her arm. "After you, darling Eve."

"Smartass," Eve grumbles as she walks passed Villanelle.

The younger woman gives her a slight nod and a slow blink, oh so full of herself. "I know."

The building resembles the one that served as their headquarters back when they worked with Bill and Elena. When they finally reach the fourth floor, Eve knocks three times on the grey door. She hears rumbling on the other side of the walls before the door opens on Kenny. 

"Hey, Eve!" He says, hugging her with one arm that falls against Eve's side when he sees the other person behind the door. "And... Villanelle."

He shots Eve a questioning look and she must seem as surprised as he is.

"Come on in."

He let them enter the room before locking the door. A part of the wall in front of them is covered with pictures. Faces, places, a world map, charts. Eve steps closer to take in as much as she can. Villanelle stays behind her, engaged in a strange starting contest with Kenny. Carolyn joins the three of them soon after.

"It's good to see you both."

Before she can say anything else, Kenny turns towards Eve.

"A word?" He asks with a smile.

Eve swears that it's the fakest smile she's ever witnessed, which says something, considering she's had to watch Elena wish Frank a happy birthday for years. He leads her into the tiny kitchen next to the main room. Eve closes the door behind them.

"Villanelle?" Kenny asks as soon as he hears the door click.

"Your mother didn't talk to you about this?"

"Of course not!" _Classic Carolyn_ , Eve thinks. "I don't want _her_ around."

"Alright, I know she's done bad things but you don't have to be so-"

"She is _your_ psychopath, Eve. Not mine." He crosses his arms like a child. Eve expects a pout at this point. "After everything she's done, after everything we've been through?"

"She's been through a lot too, you know."

Kenny takes a step back. "Are you serious right now?" 

"I'm not excusing anything she's- Kenny, please."

Truth is, she's not in the mood to fight. They've all done questionable things - Villanelle more than others, for sure - but the four of them are in this tiny apartment for the same reason.

"This is unbelievable."

"It's only for a couple of days. And I'll have you know she's doing it to save _your_ ass."

"Oh I'm so sorry somebody put a hi-"

He abruptly stops as Villanelle opens the door.

"Is there a problem?"

Villanelle keeps her eyes on Eve, shooting occasional glances at Kenny. Eve shakes her head.

"It's fine," she says and gently grabs Villanelle's arm to walk her back into the office. "Come on."

"He doesn't seem to like me very much," she whispers to Eve.

"Just give him a break. He'll be fine."

Carolyn eventually gets them all to sit in the office to give them the main instructions. The auction is supposed to take place on Friday, meaning that they would leave the next day to have at least two days on-site to adjust every little detail and be ready. Everything sounds fine to Eve until Carolyn adds that they'll stay in a hotel in Rome. Then it all comes back.

_Italian alleys, broken promises, and, well, evil men chopped into tiny bits._


	2. keep playing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you wonder where the plot is in this chapter, so do i ✌🏻 enjoy

Rome makes them nervous.

The flight is awfully quiet. Eve is relieved when the stewardess asks her what kind of drink she'd like. The snack they're given is tasteless - after all, it's plane food - yet they devour it as if it was their first meal in days. Villanelle tries a joke. It falls flat. Her hand goes to her hip and she starts rubbing the spot where her scar is over the fabric of her blouse. Eve can feel Carolyn's eyes on her, watching them from the middle row while Kenny's fast asleep. She picks at her nails and ends up nipping and biting them. Focusing on the plane's wings didn't work; neither did staring at the back of the head of the man in front of her. 

There's a lump in her throat, an uneasy feeling that she can't shake off. What's the worst thing that could happen, anyway? Two days in a hotel room and then they'll be long gone from this hell of a city.

As long as Carolyn doesn't book them a tour of old Roman ruins, it should be fine.

As long as Villanelle doesn't get cornered by a man twice her weight and the only weapon at her disposal isn't an ax, it should be fine.

Really. There's nothing to worry about.

She keeps biting her nails, though.

Villanelle wants to ask her what's wrong. But she knows. She knows Eve perfectly remembers her bright red clothes, her bloody cheek, the hurt from her broken fantasy. The same way she remembers the weight of the small gun in her pocket and Eve's dark teary eyes before the woman she was head over heels for turned away.

So, they wait in silence, absorbed in their thoughts.

They can all feel the tension in the taxi taking them to the hotel. Carolyn takes the front seat without asking for anyone's opinion, leaving her son to sit between the other two women at the back. It's possibly the worst place to be and Kenny nervously shakes his leg up and down, suddenly very interested in the roof's shade of grey that he seemingly can't take his eyes off. His discomfort forces a smile on Eve's lips and relaxes her a bit. Villanelle just stares at his foot hitting the carpeting of the car and clenches her fists a little more at each thud. At some point, Eve is convinced she sees the driver give Kenny a worried look - the kind that says " _blink twice if you need help_ " - and she sinks her teeth inside her cheek to stop a nervous laugh to take over.

The car finally stops in a street that looks way too similar to the ones Eve knows. The hotel, however, isn't like the one in which she had shared a room with Hugo. It's fancier. A little too much for the occasion, she thinks. It's not exactly low profile but after all, Villanelle is sporting her bright yellow coat so at this point, why not? The driver gets the suitcases out of the trunk and they make their way inside. 

Carolyn goes to take the key cards at the front desk. After a quick exchange with the receptionist, a young man asks her to follow him. Kenny's name resonates in the entrance hall as she motions for the three other members of the team to come. A quick elevator ride later, they find themselves in the hallway of the third floor. They immediately notice the vending machine (blame it on the plane food) placed, as well as two armchairs, next to a large window. The young man brings them back to reality and distributes the keys. He points at the second door on the left; Carolyn thanks him and enters the room, Kenny on her heels. 

"Snacks?" He asks Eve before his mother closes the door. 

She nods and adds, "Five minutes."

Eve and Villanelle are staying further down the hallway. It's a large room with a queen-sized bed on the left. In the middle of the room, two couches face each other, separated by a glass coffee table. There’s a door leading to a bathroom on the right. A good portion of the wall is just large windows looking out on the street. It’s nice. Villanelle leaves her suitcase next to the coffee table and kicks off her shoes to enjoy the soft deep red carpeting under her feet. She walks around the room and ends up letting herself fall back on the bed.

"I'm going to go see Kenny," Eve announces before she can feel stupid just standing there. "Do you want anything to eat?"

Villanelle thinks for a second. "Gummy bears, please."

Eve whispers _okay_ and quietly leaves the room.

* * *

As she shuts the door, she can see that Kenny is already in front of the vending machine, lightly tapping on the glass, trying to decide what to get. He smiles when he sees Eve walking up to him and points at the dozens of different candies.

"Any preferences?"

Eve shrugs. "Kit Kat?"

There’re two loud thuds as the snacks fall down. Kenny hands one over to his friend. They completely ignore the armchairs and sit down on the floor, their backs resting against the vending machine. 

"I'm sorry about the other day," Kenny lets out, ripping the plastic open. "I wasn't expecting her."

"It's alright."

"No, it's not. It wasn't your fault. Or hers, for that matter," he adds. "I appreciate it. I know she's doing it for you but still. She had no obligation to follow through with Mom's idea."

Eve smiles and gives his knee a quick squeeze. "Thank you."

The young man sighs heavily and closes his eyes, leaning his head back against the glass. They enjoy the silence for a minute, only breaking it to eat their Kit Kat bars. 

"It's just... weird," Kenny says between two bites. "You and her."

"There's nothing- Really, we're not-" Eve groans because it's not that hard to explain yet she's stuttering like she has something to hide and it pisses her off.

"Right," Kenny says, unable to hide a mocking and playful smile.

Eve runs a hand across her face, laughing. "Shut it."

Kenny's laugh joins hers and just like that, the tension hovering above them since they set foot in that plane vanishes. They're not even sure why they're laughing anymore but it feels good, light. 

"Do you think it's crazy?" Eve asks, her eyes closed.

"A little?” He tries with a funny face. “But for what it's worth, you two together can't be worse than you two apart. That didn't work out so well."

Eve sighs and circles her legs with her arms, "I meant me being a spy."

"Oh..."

Eve chuckles - _yeah -_ and she lets her chin rest on her knees. After a while, she says, "It feels strange to be back here."

"I know. I can't stop thinking about the moment I learned what had happened to you. It's like," he hesitates, looks for the right words, "there's this weird feeling that won't go away." Eve nods, says she feels the exact same way, feels this weight in the back of her mind. "Did Villanelle say something?"

"Not since the flight. There's not much to say, anyway," she shrugs. "Or too much."

“Then don’t talk about it. It's your thing, right?”

Eve hums. A comfortable silence wraps around them until Kenny folds the empty plastic wrap in his hand and stands up. "You should go back. I don't want her to get jealous and snap my neck." 

“Don't be an asshole.”

Kenny puts his hands up. "She's snapped necks before."

"Not yours."

"Wouldn't want to change that."

He offers Eve a hand. Before she takes it, Eve reaches for the change she left in her back pocket. She buys the gummy bears Villanelle had asked for.

“See you in the morning?” Eve asks.

Kenny nods. “You know where to find me.”

“Thank you for this.”

Kenny whispers a “sure” and they exchange one last smile before they drag their feet to their respective rooms.

* * *

When Eve walks in, Villanelle is spread out on the bed, feeling the fabric of the sheets with a content smile. Eve sits down on the edge of the bed and waits for her assigned roommate to open her eyes to ask, "Did you do that a lot? Wait in hotel rooms?" The blonde nods and readjusts her arms under her head. "For how long?"

"Hours. Days." The younger woman frowns at a bad memory. "A week one time."

"What did you do?" Villanelle's face lights up way too quickly so Eve immediately adds, "If you say something even remotely sexual, I'll end you."

Villanelle smirks. "Then I don't have a lot to say."

At this moment, Eve wants nothing more than to slap that grin off her face. Instead, she throws the bag of candy across the bed. An exaggerated _"o_ _w"_ echoes against the walls when it lands on Villanelle's stomach. She sits up, opens it eagerly, and picks two gummy bears before ripping their heads off. The beginning of a smile stretches Eve's lips at the view of the sheer joy in Villanelle's eyes from something so simple. Villanelle holds the bag out to her, but she shakes her head no. 

"I went over how to kill whoever I had to kill," the blonde starts explaining, hand deep in the candy bag. "Location, costume, character, timing-"

"Best and worst-case scenarios." 

Villanelle huffs at the word "worst".

"Please. I'm not an amateur, Eve."

“I know.”

Villanelle gets up from the bed and starts walking around the room. 

"I worked out. I practiced languages,” she says, opening a cupboard.

Eve can see two rectangular boxes in the piece of furniture.

"Are these board games?" Villanelle nods. "What do you have?"

The blonde grabs the box on top and turns it around to read the name.

"The Game of life?" 

Eve scrunches her nose. "Anything else?"

"Checkers."

"No way. Game of life it is."

“Oh,” Villanelle says, surprised. “Do you want to play?”

Eve shrugs. “I mean… We have hours to kill. But we don’t have to if you-“

“No, it’s fine! But I don’t really know how to play.”

“It’s a basic game. Come on.”

Villanelle takes the box and sets it on the coffee table. She kneels next to it as Eve sits on the couch. There's not a lot of space but the table is wide enough to welcome the unfolded board. Eve sets the colorful wheel at the center of the board and spins it a few times; it keeps landing on 3. Villanelle inspects the box and the board with a frown.

"What's the goal?"

"You spin the wheel, do whatever the space you end up on says and, well, try to live the best life possible."

Eve picks up the box and puts in on the table, pointing at a bunch of plastic cars. She tells Villanelle to take one. They both go for the same dark blue car. Neither of them wants to let go. The tips of Eve's fingers turn white from the way she's gripping it. She shoots Villanelle an annoyed look.

"Come on, it's the least ugly one."

"It's a plastic toy, Eve."

"Then get another one." With her other hand, Eve picks the small washed out yellow car from the box and slaps it in Villanelle's palm. "It matches your coat."

The blonde shrugs, unsure of how to take Eve's remark. "I like this coat."

"Then you'll love this car."

The older woman finishes to organize the board, distributes the money, and sets a pink peg in each car. Once they're all set, she lets Villanelle spin the wheel to start the game.

One thing they realize almost immediately is that they're both bad sports. 

Eve huffs and groans every time the younger woman wins something. It starts when Villanelle gets a lawyer career (and the best salary available) while she misses all the good job spaces. There's a barely audible " _are you fucking kidding me_?" whispered through gritted teeth that makes Villanelle snicker. And yes, maybe she's taking it too seriously. Maybe she shouldn't roll her eyes when Villanelle happily takes the fake bills she earned with a satisfied smile. But there's no way she's losing this game.

Villanelle isn't better. Instead of grumbling and sighing as much as Eve does, she cheats. She tries to steal money from the bank by hiding a second bill behind the only one she's supposed to take on her second turn. It doesn't escape Eve's watchful eye.

"Put it back."

"What?"

She has to admit Villanelle's innocent face is endearing (and mastered to perfection) and she would've given in under any other circumstances. Arms crossed, she waits for Villanelle to reluctantly put it back on the pile.

Eventually, Villanelle moves her plastic car to the "Get Married" space and Eve hands her a blue peg from the box. The younger woman raises her eyebrows in a way that screams " _seriously_?" so Eve puts it back in the box. While she looks for a pink peg, Villanelle says, "I didn't think I'd get married again so soon."

Eve stops her movements right away.

"What do you mean _again_?" She asks, narrowing her eyes.

"A few months ago, in Spain."

Villanelle doesn't bother to give an explanation. She says it as if it wasn't brand new information for Eve to take in.

"Are you still- how long were you married for?"

"Three hours, give or take."

Eve can't say she's surprised.

"Jesus."

"I made a great speech and Dasha kidnapped me."

"Lovely."

Villanelle nods vigorously. "It was. If you had seen this house..." She trails off. "And the _pool_."

And Eve can see it, oh so well. Extravagant, outrageously expensive, way too much everything. 

Villanelle snaps her back to reality. "Can I have a pink one now?"

Eve hands it to her. "One Spanish lady for you. What's her name?"

Villanelle carefully sets it next to the other pink peg in the car. "Maria. But she's not who I'm picturing in my car."

Eve shakes her head with a smile and nods towards the board.

"Spin the wheel."

"I meant-"

"Spin it," Eve repeats, louder, rolling her eyes. The smile on her lips hasn't disappeared. "I know what you meant."

They keep playing for almost half an hour, exchanging anecdotes here and there, loosely connected to the spaces they land on. Villanelle loses it when Eve tells her about Tallulah Shark and the older woman regrets it right away. It goes extremely well; Villanelle even stops cheating for a while. Until she has to pay $10,000 and she strongly refuses. Eve’s grin doesn’t help.

“Let me draw a card," Villanelle demands.

“I can't. It’s taxes day, you have to pay."

Eve tries to keep a straight face at Villanelle’s tantrum, but she fails miserably. It’s payback for the countless number of times the blonde yelled “PAYDAY”, knowing damn well Eve didn’t earn even half of what she did.

“Read me a card, _instead_."

“No,” Eve says, louder.

Villanelle groans and lunges forward to get a card only for her hand to hit the coffee table. Eve had already snatched the deck of cards out of Villanelle's reach. The blonde lands weirdly on top of Eve. She catches hold of the armrest to break her fall but her right arm presses down on Eve's throat. It feels too familiar. They lock eyes for a split second and the game is long forgotten; Eve lets the deck of cards fall at the foot of the couch. The pressure on her throat softens as Villanelle moves her arm to the side. The younger woman traces a line from Eve's collarbone to the top of her breast with the tip of her finger. It perfectly mirrors the line across Eve's shoulder blade and the older woman can't hold back a shiver. Her finger lingers there for a few more seconds before she leaves a kiss just above it. It's not quite an apology. More of an acknowledgment of the strange bond between them, indestructible. It’s the lightest contact but it makes Eve lean her head back against the armrest. Villanelle lets her lips wander higher, peppering kisses along Eve’s neck.

Eve runs her hand down the blonde's side and stops at her hip, applying the tiniest of pressure with her thumb on the scar she knows is right under. Nothing will ever take away the knife from her hand and the rush of adrenaline that made her arm tingle and her heart race in Paris. She's not entirely sure she wants to, anyway. A strand of Villanelle's hair brushes against her chin and brings her back to it, only to catch Villanelle’s dark eyes and barely flushed cheeks. Eve strokes her cheek and pulls on her bottom lip with her thumb, slightly parting her lips. It gives Villanelle enough time to move backward or get off the couch, enough time to decide if she wants to take it further. Villanelle moves her head to the side to swiftly kiss Eve’s thumb before taking hold of her hand and pinning it next to her head. She closes the gap between them, presses a kiss on Eve’s lips. Then another, and another and Eve’s grateful sigh is a good enough reward. Even better is the moan that escapes Eve’s throat when Villanelle tugs at her lip and brushes a thumb across a nipple that she feels harden under Eve’s shirt.

At this point, Eve can’t say she didn’t expect Villanelle to push her tongue in her mouth and her leg between her thighs, but she still sucks in a breath and can’t help but grind down on Villanelle’s knee when it happens. Minutes pass as they keep kissing and she keeps rocking against Villanelle’s leg until she can’t take it. Her lips are swollen, there’s not a square centimeter of her neck that hasn’t been claimed by the assassin, her underwear feels more uncomfortable against her skin every second passing and she’s _so_ tired of seeing Villanelle’s stupid silk top, with all those stupid buttons and her stupid pants. Eve takes the blonde by surprise and flips them over. Her fingers go straight to the first button of the blonde’s blouse and it’s a miracle she gets to the last one without having ripped any piece of fabric since she’s not exactly gentle with it. Villanelle isn’t too far gone not to notice the way Eve is handling her clothes and the older woman doesn’t miss the tinge of worry in her eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Eve says, going back to Villanelle’s lips.

“Like what?” Villanelle asks into the kiss.

“Like I tore your favorite top in two.”

“But you almost did.”

Eve rolls her eyes, leaves an open mouth kiss under Villanelle’s ear, and sits back on the blonde’s thighs, urging her to sit up so she can slip the silk blouse off her shoulders. Villanelle helps her to get out of her shirt right after and it joins her top on the floor. Her lips are soon attached to Eve’s collarbone as she lets Eve run her fingers through her golden hair, massaging her scalp. 

“V- Wait,” Eve lets out between two sighs. The nickname stops Villanelle and she immediately looks up, asks her what's wrong. "Nothing. Bed.”

Villanelle smiles – _oh, ok_ – and follows Eve, makes her turn around before she reaches the bed, loses one hand in black curls, unfastens her bra with the other. The deftness of it all almost fools Eve, makes her believe Villanelle has everything under control until the blonde pushes her too strongly on the mattress. Eve bounces on it in a weird way. She can't help but snort when she sees the way Villanelle grimaces.

"Прости," the blonde mumbles.

Trying to make Eve forget about this mishap, Villanelle unbuttons her pants, take them off and it almost works since the older woman appreciatively watches her toned legs. She joins Eve on the bed and seals their lips again. Eve doesn't waste any time and straddles Villanelle's hips again. A deep laugh still escapes her throat. Maybe it's the nerves, maybe it's the way they're reclaiming this city, maybe it's Villanelle being an international assassin who's half her age. Or maybe it's because said assassin literally _threw her_ on a bed seconds before.

"Stop making fun of me," Villanelle asks with a pout.

And just before she can cross her arms, Eve falls right into it, kisses her pout away, and nips at her plump bottom lip. She runs her hands down her sides and comes back up until her thumbs trace the underside of Villanelle's breasts and one thing leading to another, her mouth is involved, Villanelle ends up completely naked and she's way more responsive to her touch than Eve ever dreamed of. She gets intoxicated by every sound she draws from Villanelle's throat, every twitch of a muscle. She's almost light-headed, as she gets lost in Villanelle and finds her burning hot, sopping, so ready for her it could make her lose her mind.

Villanelle doesn't talk as much as Eve imagined she would. She lets Eve take the lead, listens - _open_ , _show me what you like_ , _such a good girl_ \- and obliges. She drinks in Eve's words and relishes her encouragement. Her only desire is to stop running and be taken care of. Eve can feel it, literally, and wants to make it last just a little longer. 

When she feels Villanelle start to clench around her fingers, she pulls out. It elicits a whine out of Villanelle and a displeased _hey!_ that rapidly turns into a moan when Eve's slick fingers trace the scar on her abdomen. Eve knows it's wrong, knows it shouldn't turn her on so much, or make her seek any kind of friction, but the way it affects Villanelle doesn't help. Eventually, she manages to catch Villanelle's eyes - her pupils way past blown - and she smirks at the blushing, ragged breath, whining mess in front of her. She traces a line from her clit to her entrance, barely dipping the tip of a finger in.

"Again."

Villanelle's tone changes and Eve knows she didn't think she would have to wait for her release. She sounds like a spoiled child who won't take no for an answer. Demanding, ordering. It pushes the older woman to play a little more. She repeats the movement, reaching deeper each time. When she feels the blonde is close again, she yanks her fingers out, and oh, if looks could kill.

"Stop doing that." Villanelle's voice is high and filled with frustration.

“Will you stop cheating?” Eve asks, eyebrows raised and a smirk on her lips. 

Villanelle doesn't even register the question, doesn't try to understand what it means. She nods, laboriously whispers a _yes_.

“Will you pay the ten grand?” 

The question brings the blonde back to her senses. She can't believe Eve is bringing the game into this.

“What?” 

"The ten thousand dollars you owe the bank," Eve repeats. "Will you give them?"

"What if I don't?" Villanelle tries, a wavering cocky smile on her lips. And even though it looks like she's joking, she's not planning on giving up any fake bills.

"Then we can keep you there for a while," Eve says, brushing her clit really lightly. “But I don't think that's what you want..." She trails off, moving her hand.

Villanelle bites down on her lip. The feeling of Eve’s fingers on each side of her clit is almost too much because she’s _right there_. And the older woman knows it, adds a little more pressure that Villanelle wouldn’t have even felt if she wasn’t so worked up but there she was, clenching around nothing.

“ _Eve_ ," Villanelle breathes out in a sob, her entire being trapped between the other woman's fingers.

"Yes?"

Villanelle doesn't say more, only has Eve's name on her tongue. Eve keeps playing with her. It hadn't been her plan to edge her - it hadn't been her plan to have her naked under her at all - but Villanelle's stubbornness made it too tempting, too hard to resist, too amusing.

"It's just a game," Villanelle hisses.

Eves laughs, "I know, baby."

The term of endearment slips out. She isn't one to overly use and whisper _baby_ here and there. It feels strange on her tongue but it makes Villanelle whine and that's all that matters. She leaves a kiss between her breasts, then on her neck, and plays her last card. "Be a good girl."

It has the expected effect. It makes Villanelle gasp and nod and shortly after breath out _"okay"_.

"Wasn't so hard, was it?" 

Eve pushes two digits in as a reward and kisses her way down Villanelle's body. The assassin has waited enough. She goes straight to the point and suckles her sensitive clit, making Villanelle arch her back and lose her hand in her hair. She moves her right hand up until she feels Villanelle's scar and traces it over and over again with her thumb. It sends Villanelle over the edge, a litany of Russian words rolling off her tongue as she gushes over Eve's fingers. Eve helps come down from her high and plants a kiss on her still quivering thigh. She pushes herself up and captures Villanelle's lips for a soft and loving kiss. It's short but conveys so much she could almost blush. And the way their bare chests are pressed against each other isn't helping. Eve rolls off the blonde's body. She lies on her stomach, arms crossed under her chin. She looks at Villanelle who's still catching her breath. 

They enjoy the silence for a while, until Eve asks out of the blue, "You're still legally married, aren't you?"

Eve can see something flicker in Villanelle's eyes before she quickly sits on the edge of the bed, puts her underwear back on, and makes her way to the couch.

"What are you-"

Before Eve can tell her to come back to bed, she bends down to take something and when she stands up straight again, she has a card in her hand. 

Villanelle clears her throat in a theatrical manner and reads, "If you're married, take $2000 from the bank."

She flashes a wide smile to Eve who can't even pretend to be annoyed and just laughs heartily. She still grabs a pillow and throws it at Villanelle for good measure.

"Stop making shit up and come back here."


End file.
